You Who Are My Home
by PuffleHuff
Summary: The Hummel-Anderson family live, laugh, cry, and grow together in love, their children showing Kurt&Blaine the strength of the bond between them. AU/future, OCs, maybe OOC, slight sci-fi. T  PG-13/R varying . Expect eventual mature themes w/o smut. HIATUS
1. Prologue

**A/N:**_ This is a futurefic centered around Kurt and Blaine's marriage and family life, raising their children. Expect mature themes, but no smut. Longer note at end. Cheers

* * *

_

"Are you sure we're ready for this?"

Blaine's eyes went wide in disbelief over what he'd just heard come tumbling out of his young husband's mouth. "You're kidding me, right," he silently prayed between words. "You're about eight months and 29 days too late for hesitation now, love."

"I know, I know... We're ready..." Kurt sighed, though unconvincingly, to his partner. His fingers gripped Blaine's tighter on the armrest between them. He let the pulse of his lover's circulatory system beneath his hand and the low hum of the electric-cab's motor lull him into a false calm.

He hazarded a look in Blaine's direction and found those gorgeous hazel eyes carefully observing his expression. "This is what we want. This is going to be perfect, and everything will be amazing." Blaine smiled that warm, infectious, sincere smile and Kurt's heart fluttered and reset.

Yes, everything was going to be perfect.

* * *

Everything wasn't quite perfect, but it was as close as anyone could ever claim to be.

The delivery room was wild with emotion and noise, and the back and forth exchange between mother, doctor, fathers, and nurses was enough to turn Kurt's stomach into a baron desert of knots. But he kept it together. His heart pounded in his chest, leaping every time Eva squeezed their hands tighter and Blaine's eyes would meet his over the gesture.

The evening burnt into night, and the passion and pain and love burned continually with it like Moses's magic bush. Kurt wasn't religious, or really even that spiritual, but Blaine's library held volumes and texts from many religions, and the images before him now seemed like the closest thing to god or divine love he'd ever felt.

Tears were burning in the corners of Blaine's eyes, and as the brow of his daughter appeared between her mother's legs the floodgates opened, salty hot streams cascading into the heat of the room. Laramie Eva was born into the hot night of Indian summer at 11:57pm, October 31, 2023. All Hallows Eve.

Her brother followed her quickly and – thankfully – easily soon after. Zane Albert was born into the simmering morning of a late-season heatwave at 12:05am, November 1, 2023. All Saints' Day.

Kurt had loved Blaine for twelve years, had suffered and celebrated with him through tremendous upheaval and the most blissful of triumphs. Never had he imagined his heart could swell so much as it did now. Eva lay back in the hospital bed, dark circles and an unmistakable inner glow playing on her face as she held a newly cleaned Laramie to her breast. A similar glow flickered across Blaine's countenance as he held Zane, their son, in his arms. Kurt's eyes shimmered a sea-like blue-green, the trepidation he had once imagined disappearing as tears slid from his porcelain cheek.

* * *

As their children had grown it quickly became clear who belonged to whom. Zane grew taller and lanky so quickly that it hardly seemed worth the time it took to wrangle him into his clothes, as he would surely have outgrown them by the end of the day anyway. Laramie seemed always a head smaller than her brother, but made up in abundant chocolate-brown curls what she lacked in stature. They were both graceful, energetic children, yet Zane maintained a will o' the wisp-nature of constant motion, while Laramie often seemed more solid and aware of her environment at any given moment.

And although it was clear biologically which father each child took after, their temperaments were all their own. Zane was precocious, as both of his fathers had been at a young age, but confident in ways that neither of his parents had been until well into their college careers. He knew what he wanted, found ways to get it, and never hesitated to fess up if caught utilizing methods that weren't entirely respectable. He was unabashed, and wasn't afraid to use his charm and cunning, and that occasionally worried his fathers. He was sure to be a heart breaker soon enough.

Laramie, too, was capable of voicing her wants and needs, but her confidence was quieter than that of her brother. She was always aware and informed of what was happening, yet seemed somehow not to understand how she fit into things. Kurt sometimes wondered if perhaps she felt out of place as the only female in their immediate family, even though traditional gender roles were next to non-existent. But she had many "aunts" and godmothers in the form of her fathers' long-time friends, and Blaine reassured him that their daughter was far from lacking in feminine influences.

Their children were growing up talented, intelligent, and strong, and Kurt and Blaine were as proud of them as any parents could be.

* * *

**A/N:** _This is the prologue to what I anticipate being my longest fanfic to date. I have done a lot more pre-writing than I usually have in the past, however, I want to get a bit further along before I start updating super-frequently. I wanted to get this up tonight, though, since there isn't a new episode to tide us over tonight, and for the next little while. I hope to explore the dynamics of raising children in a same-sex lead household, as well as the dynamic of Kurt and Blaine's relationship as older and aging adults. _  
_Some notes for clarification: Eva (aka Evangeline Kennedy in future chapters) is the biological and birth mother of Kurt and Blaine's twins, Laramie and Zane [I do not support Mpreg at all. Ever!]. The story takes place in the future (2023 CE and later), except for possible flashbacks, which will be made clear through the context of the story. _  
_As always, R&R and constructive criticism is appreciated. I will likely be slower in responding to messages than I've been in the past; my apologies. Thank you for taking the time! _


	2. Only Daughter

Laramie was an only daughter. She had two daddies and a little brother who was bigger than her, but no sisters. And no mother.

She knew, as best as any five year old mind could know, that she had come from a mother, along with her brother, and that even though her family felt complete, there must be another piece of it out there somewhere.

She knew that her friends from school and dance classes looked like both their bio-parents at once, or that those who were adopted refugee children didn't necessarily look like their "picked" parents. She knew that her curly hair came from her Daddy Blaine, and that he must be a bio-parent to her, while her Poppa Kurt must be her picked parent. And, although when both fathers tucked her in at night they kissed her and said "I love you forever, my Laramie," when Blaine tucked her in alone, he would say a blessing with her:

"Thank you, Divine Lover, Life Giver, for sending us beautiful Laramie. Bless her and keep her. And bless our brother, Zane. And bless our fathers. And bless our mother. Thank you Creator Spirit."

So she knew she had a mother out there in the world, somewhere.

* * *

So it was, on another unseasonably warm November night, not unlike the one that had brought his children into this home, Blaine found his little girl standing on tip-toe, on a kitchen chair she had pulled into the hallway. Her sea-green eyes stared into the photograph of the twins' first homecoming that hung on the wall. Blaine knew the photo's layout by heart, as he carried a smaller print of the shot in his wallet. The photo depicted all of the people he loved most. He quietly watched his Ami studying the faces of their extended family of friends. A little finger rose to point out each one as she silently identified them all.

"Who are you looking for, baby?" Blaine quietly asked his little girl, settling an arm gently, but protectively, around her as she stood on her precarious perch.

An adorable yawn contorted her soft features when she answered. "A mo-ooooa-mma." She turned those irresistible blue-green orbs on her Daddy before stubbornly – and sleepily – adding, "I'm not a baby. I'm five."

"Five! You must be a big girl, then!"

Blaine swept her off the chair and held his baby close, kissing her cheek. As beautiful as his progeny was, as comforting as holding her familiar weight in his arms could be, an edge of worry worked behind his cheerfully joking facade. Laramie rested her sleepy head beneath her father's neck, and Blaine shut his eyes tight, savoring. A part of him silently gave thanks for the moment, knowing that his children would continue to grow up so quickly, right before their eyes. Wasn't it just yesterday he and Kurt had brought Laramie and Zane home to the house full of loving family and friends? Was it really time to face The Mother Question already?

"A momma, huh?" Blaine questioned after a moment's pause. He re-opened his eyes as his Ami directed his gaze back to the photograph on the wall, one hand against his cheek, the other with tiny fingers pointed. Her little hand hovered over a brunette figure near the middle of the picture.

"Is Aunt Rachel my momma?"

Blaine stifled a chuckle. Thank goodness Rachel Berry was not the other biological half of his children. "No, Ami, Aunt Rachel is not your mother. But she loves you very much. Just like everyone in this picture." Now Blaine's finger joined Laramie's on the glass of the picture frame. "Do you remember what day this was? Who are these people?" He pointed to the very center of the photo.

"It's when you and Poppa brought me and Z home from being born. And that's me - " she pointed to the yellow bundle in Kurt's arms - "And that's Zane - " she pointed to the blue bundle in Blaine's arms. "And that's Nanna Carole and Pappy, and Gam'ma," she pointed out Kurt's step-mother and father, and Blaine's mother, the twins' grandparents, who stood just behind the fathers seated on the sofa in the picture. "And that's Aunt Rachel, and Auntie Eva, and Uncle Finn, and Auntie Tina, and Uncle-Wes-and-David, and..." Laramie continued to call roll, dotting the glass with little smudges over every face, but her voice was getting softer, and each jab of the finger less enthusiastic than the last.

"You remember so well, Laramie," Blaine spoke into her mane of curls. She returned her sleepy-eyed attention to her Daddy.

Her eyes stared earnestly into his. "Is momma in that picture?" she asked with a yawn, and once again rested her head against him.

"Yes, baby." Blaine ran a soothing hand in circles against the floral pink pajamas on her back.

"Can I see her?"

"Yes, my Ami." Blaine held his daughter tighter, with one arm, and carefully dragged the chair back toward the kitchen. He left it in the doorway before turning toward the stairs and his children's room.

"When, Daddy?"

"Soon, my love. Maybe for Christmas." He set Laramie down upon her bed, her slightly younger brother sleeping sprawled across his covers, but sound as a rock across the room. Blaine sat back across the bed, leaning against the wall, and helped Laramie pull the covers over her as she wiggled into bed.

"Are you ready for sleep?" he asked his daughter. A small hand clasped around his three middlemost fingers, and she nodded with closed eyes. "Thank you, Divine Lover, Life Giver, for sending us beautiful Laramie. Bless her and keep her. And bless our brother, Zane. And bless her fathers. And bless Laramie's momma. Thank you Creator Spirit. Amen."

"Amen," came his Ami's tiny agreement.

The loving father sat for a moment, and yawned. He searched for the time at his wrist, but was unwilling to relinquish the warmth of his daughters hand to lift the watch to his eyes. Surely it was even later than he had thought when he'd finally removed himself from his study and found Laramie in the hall. He yawned again.

Blaine startled gently from a twilight dream when the tug and pressure of Larmie's hands pulled at his arm as she climbed into his lap. He smiled drowsily, and happily cradled the toddler in his arms. Just as quickly, both returned to slumber. Laramie dreamed peacefully, safe in her Daddy's arms. Blaine dozed blissfully, feeling how lucky he was to call this family his own.

* * *

Kurt shrugged out of his unnecessary but oh, so stylish jacket and hung it in the closet at the door. The house was quiet, but the kitchen and hallway lights were still on on the ground floor. He quickly slipped through, nearly colliding with a chair inexplicably placed in the kitchen doorway, and flipped out the lights. He tugged at his tie and ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed locks, disheveling them slightly. He gingerly nudged open the door to the bedroom he shared with his lover, partner, husband. But Kurt wasn't met by the sight of Blaine's slumbering body in their bed. In fact, Blaine was not in the bathroom, or dozing in the recliner in his study, either.

Kurt fastidiously undressed, carefully removing tie, cuff-links, shirt, belt, trousers, etc, and arranged or stowed each item just so, in his orderly way. He slipped into some sleep-pants, then wandered into Blaine's side of the closet, where he pulled one of his partner's undershirts over his head, savoring the heady scent of the man he loved.

Freshly garbed and comfortable, having stopped in the bathroom to cleanse and brush teeth, Kurt padded back down the hall to the room his children shared. Therein he found his family. He first approached Zane's bed, pulled the rocket-patterned sheets back over his son, then smoothed tussled hair, and lay a kiss against his forehead. One bare foot and ankle immediately re-extricated itself from beneath the covers, and Kurt noted with a smile that his Little Z wasn't staying so little, and that he was once again outgrowing his pajamas. Next, Kurt addressed the comical sight of his partner, slumped awkwardly against the wall with their daughter slumbering in his arms.

Kurt plucked the toes of the foot that wasn't wedged beneath Blaine, and smiled as his husband groggily came around. Blaine's hazel eyes blinked hard before settling on Kurt's face in the dark, a sleepy smile emerging to match Kurt's own. The shorter of the two men shifted carefully across the bed while Kurt spotted for the precious bundle in his arms. Once standing, Blaine carefully laid his sleeping daughter back down while Kurt held back the polka-dotted covers, then re-tucked the little girl in. Kurt stooped to kiss his daughter goodnight, then joined Blaine in the doorway.

The couple stood hand in hand, Blaine absentmindedly fiddling the ring on his partner's finger, and watched their twins dream. One hand still entwined with his lover's, Kurt took Blaine's cheek in his palm and laid a kiss across his lips. Blaine sighed against the younger man's mouth, and was happily led down the hall. They parted hands in the middle of the room, each circling round to their side of the bed, each switching off their nightstand light before laying down.

Blaine automatically rolled onto his side, draping his arm over Kurt's waste and lifting his chin to meet Kurt's lips. They kissed tender and fervently, until Kurt felt the fatigue pulling Blaine away from him and towards sleep. "I love you, Blaine Anderson-Hummel, father of my children," he whispered to the quiet room.

"I love eew, Kurt Hummllll–Annerrsen," Blaine mumbled back, and Kurt smiled. He craned his neck to kiss his husband again, but Blaine was already asleep against Kurt's chest. Kurt's smile widened as he settled back into the pillows, playing his fingers through Blaine's curls, and drifted into sleep.

* * *

* * *

**A/N:** _Forgot to note before, the title of this fic is taken from the lyrics Alexi Murdoch's _Orange Sky.  
_Endearments and nicknames for the Anderson-Hummel/Hummel-Anderson children are: Zane - Little Z, Z, Zaney; Laramie - Ami, My Ami (Ami pronounced as if the Lar- were dropped, emphasis as in the Ali in Muhammad-Ali)_.

_As always, thoughts, reviews, and concrit are much appreciated, however, again, I may be slower w/responses for a bit. _


	3. The Mother Question

**A/N: **_I'm starting to not know how I feel about this, and since I'm in the process of moving, haven't written much this week. I still have a couple chapters before I catch up with myself, so maybe I'll do more once I'm settled into the new place. Also, I love writing "husband." It makes me smile to think of Kurt and Blaine as husbands..._

* * *

Morning sunshine was streaming through the sheer curtains when Kurt attempted to roll over, grumbling to be entangled in Blaine's legs and thus unable to shield himself from the affronting light. Blaine, too, stirred as his lover thrashed about between the soft white sheets. He freed his limbs from Kurt's, allowing the tall man to roll away. He rubbed his eyes, and then his wrist, noting that he'd fallen asleep with his watch on before removing the irritating timepiece and following his husband under the pillows.

His fingertips, callouses smoothed from years of playing the guitar, swept gently up the soft skin of Kurt's arm, crept beneath the short sleeve of his undershirt, and traced circles against the lean and muscled shoulder therein. Heat rose in Kurt's cheeks, he knowing that Blaine could incite his desire as though they were still teenagers, but his arousal was soon diminished.

Blaine slunk closer to his partner, enveloping him with his legs once more, and placed a careful kiss on the sensitive skin behind Kurt's ear. "We need to talk," the gentleman breathed into the younger's silky hair. Kurt mmm'd delightedly, and pressed back into the warmth of Blaine's body behind his, before "Our daughter is asking The Mother Question" extinguished his ardor.

Kurt extricated himself from his lover's grasp more carefully than before and turned to face this man he loved, co-father of his children. Blaine's features were still somewhat swollen with sleep, his lips worn in a lazy smile, eyes cloudy. But the smallest of furrows between his full brows betrayed the worry that had crept in since the day before. Kurt tried to silence the I-told-you-so forming in his throat, but couldn't. "I told you this was coming. I told you dance classes and visits with Tina and our mothers wasn't enough. She needs a woman to look up to."

Blaine shut his eyes against the sunlight, against the patronizing tone in Kurt's voice, against the deceptive complexity of the situation, but nodded in affirmation all the same. He just wanted to kiss his husband, get up, download the Sunday paper, and eat breakfast with his family. _Maybe they could just... _He re-opened his eyes, ignored the look of half-victory, half-concern on Kurt's face, and pressed his mouth to his counterpart's lips. He lingered there, even though his kiss was stubbornly not being reciprocated, breathing in the scents of waking up, and gathered the necessary energy to approach the day, the situation, The Question, with confidence and optimism.

"Yes, I know. You did tell me. I was selfishly refusing to believe our children were really growing up this fast. Remind me never to doubt you." He quickly kissed the surprised look on Kurt's face. "I think we should call Eva. What do you think we should do?"

Kurt smiled and nodded sideways against the pillow. "I think we should go eat some breakfast, and then we should call Eva." He gave his partner a return kiss of consent, then rolled away and out of bed.

* * *

Breakfast was waffles, because Laramie's love of holding the iron shut won out over Zane's love of breaking eggs for French toast. The little girl once again stood upon a kitchen chair, giggling excitedly as her Poppa poured the batter into the iron, her small hands grasping for the handle to pull the top half shut. "You don't have to hold it the whole time, Ami. The iron is hot and heavy enough to cook both sides," Kurt explained while meeting Blaine's quirked eyebrows from across the room. He gave a questioning expression back over the top of his daughter's head.

"Hot and heavy?" Blaine mouthed back at him with a mischievous grin, once again taking Kurt back to his teenage years, when he and the curly-haired man had first met.

"What are you, sixteen?" Kurt accused aloud, grabbing the closest object of non-lethal weight – a pot holder – and pitched it at his lover's head. The kitchen erupted in giggles as Zane followed suit, tossing his crayons around the room in the general direction of anyone. Laramie squealed with laughter and nearly fell from her chair while making a grab for the spatula, which she proceeded to hurl at her brother's head. Its handle struck him across the forehead, momentarily stunning him, but causing no damage. His laughter increased and his efforts redoubled as napkins and place mats were hurled from the table.

"Enough! _ENOUGH!_" Blaine shouted, but to no avail. The chaos continued a few moments longer, until Kurt did have to catch a falling Laramie and the smell of burnt batter began to fill the air.

Blaine had his arms wrapped around a still flailing Zane while Kurt carefully lowered Laramie back down onto the chair seat.

"_Zane_," the little boy's Daddy spoke sternly, "That's enough."

"Oooo-kay."

"I mean it. No more throwing things, alright?"

"Yes."

"And that goes for you, too, Ami," Kurt addressed his pint-sized daughter.

"Yes, Poppa."

"Why don't you two re-set the table, and Daddy and I will finish the waffles. Okay?"

"Okay," came the twins' simultaneous and somber response. Laramie carefully clambered down from her post and helped her brother pick napkins and crayons from the floor.

Breakfast proceeded more calmly, but with no shortage of laughter. A pensive look fell across Laramie as her Poppa wiped at the syrup smeared over her face.

"Is Daddy sixteen?" she asked, recalling the comment that had set off the shower of tossed items, eyebrows pulled together to punctuate the question.

"That's _old_. Like dinosaurs! My dinosaur is sixteen," Zane added, plucking up a crayon to shade in a triceratops in his coloring book.

"If sixteen is as old as dinosaurs, I must be older than time," Blaine tussled his son's hair with a smile, before addressing Laramie. "Your Daddy is much older than sixteen, baby girl. But your Poppa was sixteen when I met him." He glanced at his husband through his eyelashes, and blushed just a little.

"You married Daddy when you were sixteen?"

"Eeew," Zane chimed in, his toddler distaste for affection ringing true.

"No, Ami, I _met_ Daddy when I was sixteen. And he was seventeen. We didn't get married until eleven more years after that."

The confusion on Laramie's little round face only grew. "How many is eleven?"

"If you put Z and Ami together and add one, that is eleven."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind, baby. Don't let your Daddy try to teach you math. You'll learn that in school," Kurt smirked across the table. "This stuff isn't coming off. Run upstairs and find your duckies and we'll have a bath. Z, you too. How'd you get jam in your hair?"

"Duckies!" both children squealed before shimmying out of their seats and running for the stairs.

Kurt smiled lovingly at his husband as he stooped to tickle their son as he ran by, inciting a further flurry of giggles. Then Blaine turned that smile, that blissful, this is our beautiful life smile on Kurt.

"Com'ere, my slightly-less-ancient-than ancient husband."

Kurt rose and joined him at the end of the table. They stood close, but not touching. Just staring adoringly at one another until Blaine finally closed the distance between them with a kiss. The thudder-pat of feet on the stairs sounded, and Zane's head appeared beneath the banister with another "Eeeeww-wah!" The two man broke apart and turned to their son with silly grins on their faces.

"You direct bath-time and I'll do the dishes?" Blaine suggested with a brief brushing of hands down Kurt's arms.

"Deal," Kurt agreed with a little shiver under his partner's touch. "And then we should call Eva."

Kurt rounded towards the stairs after Zane's stomping footfalls.

* * *

Ducks were about the only bath-time accessories the twins agreed upon. By the time Kurt reached the bathroom, there was more toy than child in the tub. There was the family of four classic yellow ducks that represented the Hummel-Anderson/Anderson-Hummel family, the twelve rainbow-colored ducks (two of each color) that had been third Christmas presents from Uncle-Wes-and-David, plus four other variously holiday-patterned ducklings. The twenty ducks were joined by an assortment of Zane's plastic dinosaurs, as well as a selection of Laramie's brightly colored plastic ponies: gifts from Aunt Rachel.

Kurt cautiously ran the tap, careful not to let the water reach a scalding temperature without letting his children sit in ice water, either. He held a capful of bubble-bath under the running faucet, much to the twins' delight. He settled them in for some playtime before slipping away to change out of his sleepwear and clean himself up. Upon returning, he was happy to find that the majority of the water, toys, and bubbles had remained inside the tub in the minutes he'd been away.

Rolling up his shirtsleeves, Kurt managed to wrangle his twins into compliance and scrub them down. The youngsters watched with giggles as the bubbles were swept down the drain. Zane hopped out and wrapped himself in a blue turtle-printed towel while Kurt helped Laramie carefully rinse her mane of chocolatey curls.

"You are your father's child," he mused, mostly to himself, as he worked the spray of the shower head through the tangled hair.

"Daddy's my father, Poppa," Laramie spoke matter-of-factually. "And... you're my father, too."

Kurt paused a moment, realizing a bit of the concern that Blaine had expressed for himself, but quickly returned to the task at hand. "That's right, Laramie. You and Z have two fathers. Isn't that lucky?"

"Yes," she replied, though sounding somewhat absentminded. "We have a momma, too, though..."

Kurt sighed. Yes, it was time to find an answer to The Mother Question, and although he'd seen it coming where his partner had not, he no longer relished the precognition. They didn't have a plan. They hadn't really talked about how they would address it when the question inevitably arose, and Kurt had been all too willing to let Blaine procrastinate for the both of them.

"Yes, my Ami. You have a momma, too."

"The Mommas and the Papas!" Zane exclaimed, not really paying attention to what his sister had been saying to their Poppa. "Bah-da bah-da-da-da, Bah-da bah-da-da-da, Monday, Monday, so good to be!" The exuberant little boy hollered more than sang.

"Where in the world did you hear that?" Kurt questioned, finishing with Laramie and wrapping her in a pink turtle-printed towel as she hopped out of the tub.

"Nanna Carole! Taught me about RECORDS! At Thangsgiving!"

The twins wiggled and giggled in their towel togas, Laramie joining her brother in an exceedingly loud chorus of Ba-did-das. The song continued, garbled and seemingly unending, as Kurt herded his twins back to their room and wrestled them into clothes. He was only half surprised that Carole, his stepmother, and his Dad still had an attic full of ridiculous memorabilia from their parents and childhood stowed in the home they'd shared since the Hummel and Hudson families had joined. Kurt was amused by Zane's exuberant explanation of how records played on turntables when Kurt could hardly recall the last time he'd even seen a CD. The times, among other things, had certainly changed.

* * *

When Kurt escaped, Laramie had abandoned her ponies and was now insinuating her Tyrannosaurus into Zane's herd of Triceratops and Brontosaurs. Kurt found Blaine uncharacteristically settled in the living room, reading the Sunday Paper on his text tablet. He set himself down beside the scruffy man, still clad in a robe and pajamas, and snuggled into him, kissing him on his stubbly cheek.

"Mmm, husband kisses," Blaine smiled, tearing his eyes away from the news. Kurt smiled back, but Blaine noted the same small furrow of concern that had marred his own features that morning, and knew that Kurt must have encountered a Mother Moment with Laramie as well.

"I can't believe you've abandoned the recliner for the couch," Kurt opened.

"Too lazy to climb the stairs," Blaine draped an arm around his partner and gave a squeeze to his shoulder.

"Well, it's nearly noon. You might want to get dressed sometime today."

"Nah," Blaine teased, knowing how much his immaculate counterpart disliked anything unorganized. "Figure if I can make it to dinner without changing I won't have to bother again at bedtime."

Kurt wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Have I ever mentioned how much I love your nose, even when you stick it in the air?" Blaine teased further.

"Among other things, yes," the younger man replied. "But you know that's not why I'm here. I'm not fishing for compliments. Although, they're always accepted."

Blaine nodded, relinquishing his Sunday paper to the coffee table and turning his full attention to his lover. "Yes, I'm afraid I do know. Do you want me to make the call? Or should we conference call?"

"Let's conference..."

* * *

The talented couple sat in Blaine's study, the elder behind his desk dialing the phone, the younger in an armchair pulled up opposite his husband. Blaine smiled at Kurt, sitting poised and elegant as ever even when hovering over the speaker. Kurt smiled back, loving every disheveled detail of his partner even if he was occasionally maddeningly disorganized and spontaneous. Blaine had always been the more masculine of the pair, which Kurt had never minded, as long as he didn't go _too_ long without shaving.

The complex telephone between them rang once, twice, five times before clicking over to Eva's answering service. A brief message outlining her name – Evangeline Kennedy, playwright – phone number, and title and dates of shows played before a tone.

Blaine jumped in first; "Hey Eva, it's us -"

"Kurt and -"

"Blaine. We need to talk with you about some things."

"If you could call us back when you have a chance, that'd be great."

"We know you're busy with the show, but -"

"we'd appreciate it."

"Happy Thanksgiving," they chimed simultaneously, eyes meeting with a smile.

"Love you!" Kurt added before Blaine replaced the receiver. He sighed.

"Well, now..."

"...we wait."

* * *

**A/N:** _What'dya think? Wasn't wanting to push for reviews, but I could use some concrit. I have a basic outline of where this is all going, but no fire to get us there, at the moment. I'll get moved in and it'll all be better, right? Yes._

Thanks for reading! 


	4. Phone Tag

_Sorry for delays in updating. I moved and then had to scramble to prepare for finals right away, and then I just got lazy between the end of classes and Bonnaroo. But now I'm back home and working away again. I've only proof-read this section twice (I usually try for 3-4), so my apologies for any obvious mistakes. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

They had called Eva on a Sunday, so really neither one of them was surprised not to get an answer. Generally, Eva ran both a matinee and evening show on Saturdays and Sundays, so they assumed she would get back to them on Monday, a day when theaters are traditionally dark. But Monday and Tuesday passed with no word, and Kurt arrived home Wednesday to the tail-end of a return message.

" - Love you, bye!" _Click, BEEP. _

Kurt settled Zane and a bag of groceries on the edge of the counter and grabbed for the phone, but it was too late. Laramie staggered in behind them, a box of robot-shaped crackers and a bag of apples weighing her down. Kurt scooped the items up from his daughter's arms, relieving her, and reset his son on the ground.

"Go wash your hands. I'll put away the groceries and then we'll have a snack, okay?" Kurt pushed his kids through the kitchen door and returned to the telephone on the counter. He pressed the volume up button on the answering machine before pressing for replay.

_Click_, "Hey guys, it's Eva. I'm sorry I missed your call this weekend. Life has been hectic. I'm free for another hour or so this afternoon, but then I'll be without a phone for a few days. It might be better if you could e-mail me. I hope everything's alright. Love you, bye!" _Click, BEEP._

"You have. No. New. Messages." _Click, click, BEEP_. The machine shut itself down.

Kurt's forehead wrinkled with a question as he put away groceries and stowed the bags in the recycling container by the pantry door. Eva's voice had seemed somehow thin and harried. Granted, the woman was constantly busy, the success of her plays growing exponentially in the last few years. Even though she was younger than both Kurt and Blaine, she always seemed wizened beyond her years, but never weary. And no phone for a few days? Of course, you could rarely get Eva on the phone your first try, because she was so busy, but she was never, _ever_ without it.

_Oh well..._ Kurt sighed to himself. He'd wait for Blaine to come home from the University, and then they'd try to catch her.

* * *

Snacks were prepared and ingested, and the children put down for a nap. There was much grumbling and protestation, but both of the twins quickly settled in. Kurt took his laptop into Blaine's study and settled into an armchair, propping his feet on the ottoman. He skimmed through work-related e-mails about potential new artists to hire, venue expansion, publicity requests, fundraiser events, etc.

The initially small production and recording business he had begun with his step-brother, Finn Hudson, and his college flat-mate, Tina Cohen-Chang, had blossomed into a successful, multi-dimensional musical enterprise that had pioneered a new era of live musical productions and digital media. Though they couldn't, for the life of them, figure out how. He supposed it had had something to do with the way they had taken young musicians under their wing, chosen the least-likely but most-promising acts to represent, and encouraged an ease of collaboration with all of their contractors. At this point they had a loyal league of interns to handle the day to day workings of the business, so really the e-mails were just a formality.

All the same, Kurt liked knowing what was up, and diligently sorted keepers from spam in his Inbox. He smiled when he came across a message from Blaine's work address sent that morning:

-_**  
To:** .com**  
From:** .edu**  
Subject:**I will always..._**_  
Body:_**

...Love you.

Forever yours,  
Your Ever-loving Husband

_Blaine Anderson,  
Assistant Professor of Voice and Performance_

(and loving you!)  
-

Kurt laughed at the extension his "ever-loving husband" had added to the automatic signature at the end of his e-mail.

"What's so funny?"

Kurt was startled to look up and find that ever-loving husband of his in the doorway.

"When did you get in? I didn't even hear you. _Professor Love_," he teased.

"Mmm, sixteen years of study, and I don't even make Doctor Love yet?"

"Hmm-ha, don't get smug."

"Oh, so you've got someone better, have you?" Blaine wore that perplexing and mischievous smiling-scowl that sometimes disturbed Kurt.

Kurt met Blaine in the middle of the room, pulled away his briefcase and jacket, and wrapped his arms around the shorter man. "You know you're the only man I've ever loved..." Kurt cooed as he looked into his husband's eyes. And then giggled again as he remembered the days when he'd stood only an inch or two taller than his lover.

"Now you're mocking me. And I thought I was being sweet!"

"You _are_ sweet," Kurt insisted, pecking his husband on the cheek and then holding him at arms' length. "You're also short."

Blaine's mouth fell open in shock, and Kurt blushed, but changed the subject before any more cheeky ridicule could pass between them.

"Eva called back today. While we were at the grocery store, post-dance class. I guess she's taking a few days off or something, because she said she wouldn't have her phone on for a few days after this evening. Should we try to catch her?"

A squeal of what might have been giddiness but also just as easily might have been agony sounded from down the hall and through the child-monitoring system, and Kurt was already halfway through the door when Blaine responded "Yeah, I'll give her a try back..."

* * *

The phone tag continued, and the Anderson - Hummels had waited. When they did hear back from Evangeline Kennedy, bio-mother of their children, it hadn't been with good news. Eva was ill, and her doctors had yet to determine what with. Though her company had been offered an extended run, she had decided to close the show as intended, a week before Christmas, and was planning to relax and detoxify over the remainder of the holiday season. It was a lot to take in from a two minute video message.

Kurt was devastated and distraught, but also entirely grateful that his counterpart was able to remain strong and supportive. Blaine had made return contact with Eva, explained the situation that was arising with Laramie, and offered her a place in their household for the holidays. The dual-fathers would be happy to provide "home" for her while she attempted to recover from the mystery illness, and Eva would spend time with the children she had helped bring into the world.

* * *

In the short weeks that followed, the two fathers had discussed the possibilities open to them in handling the Mother Question with their children, and had finally agreed on a straight forward yet non-confrontational presentation of the facts. A "birds and bees" for pre-schoolers, so to speak. The day before Evangeline was scheduled to arrive, Kurt and Blaine sat down with Laramie and Zane in the study and laid out the information in a way that would not overwhelm them. Zane had taken in everything with the nonchalance of a five year old, while Laramie absorbed the information with a strange sensitivity that concerned her fathers ever so slightly.

"So... Auntie Eva... is sick?"

A look and some hesitation passed between the two men. They hadn't considered the explanation for Evangeline's need of rest. Blaine quickly filled the silence.

"No, baby. She just works so hard that she gets tired. So she's going to come stay with us and hang out with you two. She just needs to balance some playtime and naptime. Just like you and Zane do."

"Okay..." Laramie's tiny features seemed to convey an acceptance and understanding of the explanation, and relief flooded the fathers.

"And Auntie Eva is our bio-mommy?" Zane threw out unexpectedly.

"That's right," Kurt nodded with a small smile.

His son, too, seemed to wear a look of understanding. "Will she bring us presents?"

"Of course she will, it's Christmas," his sister answered him while sliding out of her seat. Zane followed suit and took Laramie's hand as the twins wandered out of the office.

Blaine moved to join Kurt on the couch with a chuckle. "Our children, the capitalists!" he chortled. "I fully intend to blame you if and when they become shopaholics..."

Kurt's fingers found Blaine's and squeezed.

* * *

_Sort of an abrupt/short chapter, but I think it's alright. It should come together more in the next sections. I'll try to update again soon, but I may have to write some selfishly insane crackfic this weekend and clear my head first. As always, R&R and concrit are much appreciated. Also, messages in general are welcome if you have questions/suggestions. And to the reviewer w/the storm/power outage idea, it's coming! Promise! Thanks, all! 3 _


	5. Christmas Comes This Time Each Year

**_A/N:_**_ Feels funny to write Christmas during summer, but oh well! This chapter contains some implied Finchel, jsyk. As well as other surprises! Enjoy!_

* * *

There was a lot of commotion initially, but it quickly and easily settled into a comfortable routine. Evangeline had indeed brought presents with her from the city. Immediately upon arrival, Zane and Laramie received coordinating Christmas elf figures with bendable limbs and magnetic hands and feet. The twins spent inordinate amounts of time making the elves climb from magnetic letter to magnetic letter across the refrigerator doors.

"I can't believe you have those," Eva remarked, "It's been ages since they made those. I guess they figure kids'd rather play with vid-screens... I remember my grandmother had an ancient set at her house we'd play with when we were little, Marilyn and I." She referred to her sister in wistful tones, and Kurt wrapped an arm around her waif-thin waste.

"Never underestimate the saving-power of a sentimental grandmother. Carole had those magnets saved from _her_ childhood, just for her imaginary future grandchildren. And a whole lot of other things, too. She was thrilled we finally had kids when Finn and Rachel didn't work out..."

* * *

The children loved the attention Evangeline showered upon them, and Eva enjoyed being able to let her stress and worries take a back burner. Her down-to-business suits remained in her suitcase, and she relished crawling about the floors in her jeans and soft cotton tees while the mother-offspring trio rampaged as dinosaurs, galloped as ponies, and generally turned every room in the house into a new adventure. And when Laramie and Zane began to tucker, so did Evangeline. She'd piggy-back the two up the stairs and lay with them in a magnificent pile for naps.

With the semester over and his grading finished, Blaine, too, would join the epic rounds of make-believe. For Kurt, though, the Holiday Season brought with it a slew of fundraisers and events, and appearances to be made at countless parties. There were brunches and luncheons and cocktails and concerts, and it became common place to arrive home for a costume change and find Blaine-the-tamed-elephant carrying Laramie-the-lovely-lady about on his back while Eva-the-ringmaster fended off Zane-the-not-so-tame-lion.

And in the evenings, when Blaine was obliged to accompany Kurt to his myriad functions, the dual-fathers were secure in the knowledge that Eva was caring for their children, because they were her children, too. And, in her turn, Eva was thankful to the couple for allowing her a space where she could be free of her showbiz burdens and taste the motherhood she had abdicated to their capable hands.

* * *

Soon enough, Christmas Day came and the family swelled once more to include Kurt's step-brother, the twins' Uncle Finn, Kurt's parents, and Auntie Tina around the dining room table. The living room was in a shambles of wrapping paper and toys, with a few odd curios scattered about for adult flavor. Somehow, despite the chaotic schedule of appearances, Kurt had managed to plan and execute a fantastically elaborate Christmas Dinner without giving Evangeline – or anyone, for that matter – the opportunity to attempt to help. It was left to Blaine and Eva to wrangle the twins into their holiday finery, and Finn and Burt chatted as they halfheartedly straightened the living room. Carole and Tina also chatted while they sat upon the sofa and watched Finn and Burt tidy up.

Then, the large and unusual family were delivered upon the dining room, and jaws dropped. Kurt's fine white wedding china was laid out upon the reddest of red table linens and accompanied by silverware so shiny you could see every detail of the chandelier (equally shiny) reflected upon them. Amongst the place settings lay roasts and souffles, golden rolls and lush sauces, the most decadent looking casserole ever, and a fluffy, white coconut cream cake.

Unhesitatingly, the twins dashed in and climbed onto their riser seats. The adults, however, were bottle-necked in the doorway, afraid to breathe lest the perfect table before them crumble away.

"Please! It won't bite. I promise," Kurt encouraged from his position at the foot of the table.

Gingerly, they all filed in and found their places. Warmth and chatter re-erupted soon after as everyone savored the delectable feast Kurt had prepared.

"No, but really, Kurt," Tina enthused, "You've outdone yourself. Don't ask me _how_, but you have..."

"Martha Stewart, eat your heart out!" Kurt beamed, and Blaine squeezed his hand under the table.

"Have I missed it?" A shrill yet lyrical voice called from the front door, accompanied by a cold breeze. Kurt glanced about, confused, while his step-brother across from him stiffened at the sound. Blaine merely squeezed Kurt's hand tighter.

"I hope you don't mind, Kurt. I asked Rachel to help deliver my surprise gift," Eva smiled down the table at him.

"I told her it was alright," Blaine added as Rachel Berry's wind-pinked cheeks appeared in the doorway.

"I come bearing gifts!" Rachel announced exuberantly. Her million dollar smile faltered imperceptibly as her eyes swept the room and fell upon Finn.

"Presents!" squealed the twins, and they rushed the petite brunette where she stood.

* * *

"We should probably take this to the living room," Eva spoke as she rose from her chair.

"Yes. Perfect! I'll clear the table while -"

"No, Kurt. You have to come with us," his baby-momma interrupted.

"I'll take care of the dishes, Kurt," Finn offered with a sidelong glance in Rachel's direction.

"Oh, okay..."

The ever-growing group shifted back towards the living room, where Finn and Burt's bag of ribbon and wrapping paper still remained in the middle of the room.

On the coffee table stood three new packages: two smaller box-shapes draped in dark-blue satin with gold stars, and one tall, oddly shaped package swathed in deep green with a gold bow atop it.

"I hope the stars are okay, Ev. They didn't have the ones like the photo you gave me, but I thought the stars were so lovely -"

"I know, Rachel. It's perfect. Thank you for your help." Eva quickly pecked the actress's cheek before intercepting the twins. It was imperative that these boxes not be shaken before opening.

"Okay, guys. This has to be done carefully, okay?... Zane, this is for you," she gently positioned the gangly boy in front of a smaller shape. "And this is for you, Laramie." The curly-haired girl mirrored her brother beside her.

Evangeline circled the table and stood before the awkward shape. Gingerly, she pinched at the bow atop the package and instructed the children to do as she had. "See how I've got the bow in my fingers? You do the same at the corners of your gift, okay?" They did, and looked up eagerly for permission to lift the veils.

"Alright, on the count of three, we'll uncover them together. Ready?"

"Yes!" Zane shouted.

"Uh-huh," Laramie nodded, wide-eyed and excited.

Eva glanced at the two men seated together in the middle of the sofa, the fathers of these children she had brought into the world. Her eyes were nervous and hopeful, and Kurt caught Blaine give her a reassuring nod. Was his husband in on this surprise?

"One... Two... Three!"

Laramie's hand withdrew to reveal a sleeping canary with pale yellow feathers. Zane's exuberant jerk had startled awake his canary, who sported a downy white belly, and in turn woke Laramie's feathered friend. And Eva's hand fell back revealing an ornate and gilded birdcage.

"Oh," Kurt inhaled, "birds."

Blaine wrapped a comforting arm around his husband and squeezed affectionately. A tear was threatening to escape Kurt's lovely sea-green eyes, but Blaine kissed it away.

"And this is for you," Rachel handed a forth surprise gift to Kurt. A book.

"Pavarotti!" squealed the twins, and a startled smile formed through Kurt's tears.

Kurt and Blaine had each been telling their children stories of Pavarotti, the magical super-canary since their children had first begun to request bedtime stories. They had discussed the idea of keeping a canary as a pet many times, but had generally come to the conclusion that the twins weren't ready for the responsibility of a pet and that they didn't have the time to provide behind the scenes care for an animal.

"The kids kept asking Eva for Pavarotti stories, so I gave her the background. It was her idea, but I thought it was perfect." Blaine quietly spoke into his husband's ear before kissing his cheek.

Kurt turned the book over in his hands to reveal a vivid image of a canary in flight, the words "Pavarotti, the Magic Bird" printed across it.

"I helped with that!" Zane declared as he unceremoniously flopped into his Poppa's lap, having quickly lost interest in Eva's careful instructions for placing the yellow birds into the larger cage. "I drew pictures!"

The birds now securely moved into their new cohabitation, Laramie joined her family on the sofa. "So did I! And some words! Just... not writing them."

"We took care of that," Eva nodded toward the book before giving Rachel another cheek peck of approval. The petite brunette beamed. "You guys did a great job keeping the secret!" she acknowledged the twins.

"Quick! _Where_ is my camera?" Eva flustered and dashed about the room before finding her camera on the mantle of the fireplace.

The Anderson-Hummel/Hummel-Andersons sat together in the deep cushions of the sofa. Kurt and Blaine couldn't keep there arms from each other, and intertwined themselves as they cradled their children. Zane and Laramie held the Pavarotti book between them and pointed proudly to the pictures they had contributed to the project, describing every detail so their fathers were sure to be just as proud. It was one of those picturesque moments that made hearts swell and eyes dampen.

It was also probably one of the best dressed picture-postcard moments ever witnessed in history.

Eva shooed the rest of the party out of her frame and quietly snapped a few photos of the strikingly beautiful family. Then she shooed them all back into the frame and took a few more.

* * *

Somehow, having rejoined the group after clearing the dining room table, Finn found himself hunched over Rachel to fit his lofty frame into a photograph.

"Hi, Finn," Rachel whispered, turning to address him with a blush on her face.

"Hey, Rachel," he replied in a voice he hoped wouldn't betray his discomfort at her presence, let alone being pressed over her. But it totally did.

"Finn, can we please leave the past behind? It's Christmas..."

"Would you two stop wiggling, please? You're more fidgety than the kids!" Eva admonished the pair.

Both faces blushed a deeper shade of red, but Finn's also spread in a smile. "Yeah, Rachel. I think we can..."

* * *

As evening fell, the gathering happily melted into comfortable perches upon the sofa, in armchairs, on ottomans, and even, in the twins case, upon the lushly carpeted floor. Laramie lay in the nest of her party dress, half-asleep, but alert enough to veto every bird-name her brother thought up. It had quickly been decided that the pure yellow canary was Pavarotti Jr, but his companion required a moniker. Zane knelt before the bird palace thinking of the most imaginative names he could, bow tie only slightly askew.

Finn and Rachel sat uncharacteristically close, speaking in fast, quiet tones, sometimes harsh, but more often accompanied by bashful smiles.

Evangeline had established her role as Christmas Day documentarian, snapping photographs and videos of everyone in their party best.

Tina and Carole each made the rounds of the room, chatting animatedly with everyone, while Burt was content to nap or contribute ideas to the bird-naming think tank.

And Kurt and Blaine were gracious hosts, but couldn't bring themselves to be farther than a hand-hold away from each other at any given time.

"Oh my god! Tell them!" Carole suddenly squealed, bringing all the attention in the room to where she and Tina had once again been gossiping.

"Carole!" Tina covered her face and turned away from the sudden attention.

"Come on, Tina, this is important!"

"What's going on?" Finn asked the obvious question. "Mom?"

Carole smiled a bright and triumphant smile. "Tina has a toast to make. And an announcement!" She quickly pressed a glass of champagne into the petite Asian's hand, then thought better of it and replaced the glass with one of the kid's cups of cider.

"Oh man. Okay..." Tina stumbled up from her seat and addressed the smiling and curious room. "Uhm... Here's to... Family! Because you guys make the greatest family," she motioned to Kurt and Blaine. "And because I consider all of you family."

Around the room anyone within reach of a drink raised their glass with Tina's awkward upraised juice. She paused to wait until everyone had a mouthful before quickly squeaking out, "I'm pregnant."

* * *

The room simultaneously choked, each person knowing Kurt would kill anyone daring to spit-take in his beautifully furnished living room.

* * *

**A/N:**_ Sort of cliff-hanger end, there, but I was having such trouble rounding off this chapter, I figured this was a fun place to stop. Next chapt will pick up immediately where this left off. I think.  
As always, reviews, feedback, concrit, etc, is much appreciated! Thanks for reading!_


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